


Patron Saint of Lost Causes

by Alternatewarning



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Child Abuse, Drowning, Gen, Religious Content, Whipping, dungeons and dragons inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alternatewarning/pseuds/Alternatewarning
Summary: Being a paladin-in-training meant following every word of the Church to the letter.  Justice wasn’t very good at following directions.  He was even worse at knowing when to give up.Whumptober 2020 entry: Number 3 and 31: Manhandled/Forced to their Knees and Whipped
Kudos: 1
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Patron Saint of Lost Causes

“Say it again!”  
“I am a sinner and must repent for what I’ve done.”  
“Again, louder!”  
“I am a sinner and must repent for what I’ve done.”

With each repeat of the phrase the entire room quivered with the loud smack of leather against flesh. Cardinal Kebmar Ghym belted out ‘Again’, watching the seven year old boy at his feet flinch with every slap of the whip against his skin. By now there was blood down his back and across the white wings limp at his sides. Strips of red were ripped across his shoulders like a painful harness, the sharp edges of the whip tearing at his skin. And yet the boy did not cry. He just sat on his knees, likely long since numb, with his arms shackled to the board in front of him. His blue eyes were staring out at the Saint’s symbol in front of him, clouded with emotions that the religious leader couldn’t place.

They had long since surpassed the required 20 lashes but it was clear by his expression that the angel-winged boy felt no repentance. He nodded at the other priest and so it continued, the whip lashing against the tiny body, breaking the skin and decorating his back and wings like a deep red tapestry. It wasn’t until the priest was running out of unmarred skin that he stopped, offering a silent question to the dwarf watching.

“Now, Justice, do you understand what you did wrong?” The Cardinal looked down at him like a disappointed father. Slowly, the child looked up through sweat-soaked bangs. His tiny body was shaking and his breathing came in heavy pants.

“I doubted the four saints.” His voice didn’t quiver--instead it was steady and firm. There was a pause between them before the child continued. “In front of the church. Next time I’ll make sure I’m alone.” For a split second the angel-winged child started to smirk but it was quickly replaced by fear. Despite his ornate red and golden robes, the Cardinal moved with surprising swiftness as he grabbed the white hair and pulled the boy forward. Locked in place as he was, all Justice could do was cry out as his arms were pulled between his body and the wooden bench they were restrained too.

“You don’t know when to be quiet, now do you? Have you learned nothing during your lessons?” The holy man barked out with anger fueling his words. He met the blue eyes with his own, trying not to flinch at the fury staring back at him. 

“I told the other Fathers you were trouble, a demon in an angel’s skin. My suggestion was to sew your mouth shut but they told me I was being excessive. Clearly they were wrong. Come now, see if you can save yourself. Unlock the restraints but keep him chained!” Kebmar held Justice by the hair as the priest dropped the whip and quickly moved to undo the manacles. Once they were unlocked the boy twisted in the man’s hold, screaming and flapping his wings to escape.

“Let me go! I took my lashes now let me go!” It took two adults to hold the boy still, wrapping his arms and legs in chains and pressing their weight on him until he finally stopped struggling. Once there was a pause in his squirming, the Cardinal grabbed both of his wings in his hands and pulled, hard, forcing the boy to his feet. The feathered appendages were larger than the boy himself but fragile, a hard enough pull could easily break the thin bones. So when the holy man started to pull, Justice followed after him, trying to keep pace but stumbling due to the chains and having to walk backwards because of the hands on his wings.

“We only take the worst sinners to this part of the basement, my boy. And do you know why I’m punishing you like this? Think before you respond.” Kebmar spoke, his voice deep and as sharp as a razors edge.

“Because you don’t like that a kid’s standing up to you.” The dwarf grunted at him before dragging the boy into a room and slamming the door behind them. He used the wings to force Justice to his knees, attaching the chains into a metal hook in the floor. Once the adult backed off, the boy stood up, testing what he could do. He had some movement of his arms and legs but a single chain attached all four limbs and was hooked into the ground so there was no escaping, at least not easily.

“You don’t believe in the Saints; you don’t seem to believe in anything but yourself. So let us see if you can get yourself out of this. No one is coming to save you.” With the last words the dwarf left the room, leaving Justice alone. He looked around, taking note of the room. It was a large stone room, clearly older than the church that it sat underneath. There were three more hooks sticking out from the ground, meaning they could chain up four people like this. There didn’t seem to be any details other than unlit torches around the edges of the room and a faint light filtered in from a small hole in the ceiling. The ground was stone, grey but coated in black, yellow, brown, and red stains. Disgusting.

Justice flapped his wings as he tried to pull backwards, yanking on the chains. If he could at least free himself from the ground, then he could try to see if he could wiggle out through the hole in the ceiling. There was suddenly a strange sound outside of the door. He turned, blue eyes watching for any movement. But nothing happened. It almost sounded like something was being dragged across the ground. Something heavy. The wood door trembled but never opened and the sound eventually stopped.

“Is this all? Lock me in a room alone?” He had to stop flapping with a groan, the pain from his earlier whipping was just now catching up with him. He let his wings hang, the white feathers dragging across the dirty ground. Justice could feel the back of his pants starting to feel damp, probably from the blood running down. He huffed with annoyance, shaking at the chains again to pull them free. It seemed like the hook was firmly embedded in the ground so his tiny body didn’t have the weight to force it free.

“Are you just gonna try and starve me?” He wasn’t sure if anyone was around to listen but the boy still yelled at the light. Only a few moments after, as he was still tugging at the chains, there was another sound. It was almost like a loud thud followed by a rushing river but somehow it came from above? Justice tried to twist in the chains to look up and see what could be making that noise. There was no way water was under the church nonetheless a whole river.

The light streaming in from the hole in the ceiling started to darken and then water started to run over the edge. The boy just blinked at it, not sure what was going on. He trailed his eyes up the stream, back to the hole, only to realize that more and more water was starting to rush in. His bare feet were starting to get wet as the water spread out across the stone. He lifted his wings before they got wet, shivering as the chilled water lapped against his feet. Justice turned to the door but found that the water wasn’t rushing past the wooden door and out into the hall like he thought.

That dragging sound earlier, now his memory placed an image to the sound. Sandbags. He was locked in a closed off room with water filling in, and quickly. It was already starting to cover his feet and he had to lift his wings uncomfortably, spreading them wide, to keep them out of the water.

“You can’t just drown me! I’m a paladin in training! Help! Someone help me out!” He had to keep his wings out of the water so he couldn’t try to fly. The boy returned to pulling at the chains with abandon, getting down on his knees to grab at the hook and try to unclasp the chain. The chain around his wrists and ankles were attached to the hook by a large, heavy lock. It clearly needed some sort of complicated key, not just a simple lock and turn. His small hands wrapped around the heavy metal lock and slammed it into the hook itself, hoping to twist or break the metal. He did it again and again, putting all of his strength into the motion. His shoulders were burning with pain from the exertion and the wounds across his back, but he knew he couldn't stop.

The water level was rising, the chill of the liquid draining his strength like a ghost. On his knees, the water was up over his legs and he was starting to lose sight of the hook that held the chains in the murky water. Since it was clear the lock wouldn’t break, he changed strategies, reaching down to wrap both of his hands around the hook embedded in the stone. He planted his feet on either side and pulled, trying to stand and use his full weight to his advantage. However; a seven year old light enough to fly didn’t have much weight to use. The hook even budge.

Justice let out a quivering breath, the water rising higher and higher, lapping against the wounds on his back. It was so cold that his legs were starting to go numb. Finally he stood, again giving up on the chains that held him in place. With the weight of the water now clinging to his pants he was too heavy to fly. His back was starting to ache from holding up his wings and he had to let them fall, his red-stained white feathers soaking up the cold water like a sponge.

“Help! Help, someone get me out of here! Help!” Justice cupped his mouth as he screamed, listening to his own voice echo off the heartless stone walls. The water seemed to be rushing in even faster now and it was up to his knees as he stood. His wings were pulling on his back, their weight when wet easily balancing his own. There had to be a way to escape. Blue eyes trailed over every detail he had passed by before. Six unlit torches, all slotted in divots in the stone. Their tips were black with ash, meaning they had been used before. Maybe it was some sort of puzzle? Slowly he tried to wade through the churning water to reach one but the chain holding him in place pulled taut, leaving him no more room to maneuver. Stretching his wing out he was able to knock one of the torches from its place but the wood fell into the water with a plop and then just started to float around the room.

“Okay I get the picture, you can let me out now! I’m sorry, I repent!” The water was up to his chest and he couldn’t stop the shivering. Moving was hard, not only because he felt like driftwood being pushed around by a current, but because his body felt as if it was locking up like a statue. Was anyone even out there listening to him? The water had leeched out his strength and the only reason he could still stand was the complete and utter fear of his head going under the water. Even in the best of circumstances, he didn’t know how to swim. He had always been too afraid that his wings would make him sink.

“Please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry let me out! I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll pray to whoever you want, just let me out! I’m so cold…” He was trying to yell but the sound of the rushing water seemed to swallow his cries. His body wasn’t shivering anymore as the water snaked up to his neck. His wings were fully under the water, pulling him down with their weight. The pain from his back had started to lessen which was good, although he was sure it was just from the fact that everything felt completely numb.

“Please, someone...anyone. I’m sorry.” His blue eyes slipped shut as the water continued to rise, the dark turbid pool swallowing his body whole. Just as he started to sink, the chains and his wings too heavy for the buoyancy of his body, a quiet laughing filled the room. The wooden door, propped shut by heavy sandbanks, splintered into pieces as by an act of god. The frigid water rushed out into the stone hallways as if seeking out a new victim to feast upon, tossing Justice aside as a limp doll.

His tiny body shook from pain, cold, and exhaustion, twisting painfully as he coughed, trying to clear the water from his lungs. One of his legs had ended up tangled in the chain that held him but he couldn't find the energy to try and free himself. Instead he just laid on the freezing stone, coughing and sobbing, reaching out for any type of comfort. But none came. None would ever come.


End file.
